


Hamilton Drabbles

by Im_writing_out_of_time



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (you'll know it when you get to it), Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, PTSD, Sex, Smut, War, blood mention, men in lingerie, obviously, these are drabbles so not every person is in every fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2018-12-01 21:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11494944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_writing_out_of_time/pseuds/Im_writing_out_of_time
Summary: A collection of drabbles based off your favorite problematic founding daddies from Hamilton.(Too bad LMM left out Benny Franklin, eh?)To qualify as a drabble, it'll be under 2000 words, anything much more than that (and a few under) will be made into their own fics.





	1. Bondage/Restraints/Collars

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna warn you now, these probably won't have clever names, and will be named after the prompt I wrote it from.

Thomas was on his knees as soon as Alexander pushed through the door. He had been waiting, hoping what he had done was enough for punishment. 

“You've been bad today baby boy,” Alexander started as he shucked off his coat. “Teasing me at work? You were just begging for that punishment, weren't you?”

“Yes, Sir,” whimpered Thomas, his voice breathless with want. “I've been a bad boy. I need you to punish me.” 

“I'm going to go work in my office baby boy. You have three minutes to be in my office, wearing nothing but that lingerie you were so willing to show me earlier.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Alexander disappeared around the corner to his office and Thomas jumped to his feet. He began pulling his clothes off as fast as he could, his feet getting stuck in the leg of his pants. 

“You'd better not be making a mess baby boy,” Alexander yelled from down the hall. “You know I don't like your clothes being thrown around.” 

Thomas began pouting and moving slower, folding his clothes as he went. His pants were still stuck around his ankles as he wrestled the dark button up shirt off his body. 

“Thirty seconds, Thomas!” 

Thomas folded the rest of his clothes and set them on the counter before scurrying down the hallway to Alexander's office. There was a pillow beside Alexander's desk waiting for him. The room was surprisingly empty- Alexander was nowhere to be seen. 

Thomas fell to his knees on the pillow, sitting back on the heels of his feet. He loved being Alexander’s pet- he loved being so pretty for him, so well behaved. He loved being punished when he was bad. 

“Sit pretty, pet,” Alexander ordered as he walked in the room. “Hands behind your back.” He watched as Thomas shifted, one leg splayed to the side, the other folded in front of his body, hands clasping each other behind his back. Alexander walked over and grabbed a handful of Thomas's hair, pulling his head back. “Mmm. You're so pretty, baby boy.” 

He reached into his pocket and Thomas got excited at the sound of metal tinkling against each other. His erection stretched against the pale pink lace as he waited for the cold metal of the handcuffs to clasp his wrists. The cold cuffs that never came. 

Instead, a dark blindfold appeared over his eyes, a black blindfold that held tight to his skin. Thomas could almost feel his other senses heightening. He could suddenly focus on the smell of Alexander's cologne, mixed with the slight tinge of sweat and arousal. He could feel Alexander behind him, his hands dancing over his body, his fingers trailing fire everywhere they touched. He could hear the sound of Alexander's breathing, calm, composed. The taste of blood seized through his mouth and he released his cheek from his teeth suddenly. 

“You're such a good pet,” Alexander's voice pierced the darkness. “I got you a present.” Thomas's own breathing began to speed up. He always loved his Master’s gifts. “But first I have to handcuff you.” 

Thomas's breathing hitched as the metal grabbed his wrists and pinned them together. “Thank you Master,” he breathed. 

“Oh, this isn't the present, pet. It gets better.” 

Alexander’s hands danced over his shoulders, playing over the soft pink lingerie that covered Thomas's chest before they trailed under the lace. Thomas's keened as Alexander's fingers teased over his nipples. 

“You look so good in pink lace, baby boy.” Alexander's voice was low. “It makes me a little upset that I didn't see this before I bought your gift.”

“I'm sorry, Master.” 

Alexander chuckled lightly. “Oh, don't be baby boy. You'll love your present no matter what.” Alexander's soft hands squeezed Thomas's throat and Thomas pushed into his grasp. 

“Harder, Master.” 

Alexander’s hands left Thomas completely immediately and Thomas whined. “Patience, pet.” 

There was a soft piece of fabric being trailed over Thomas's body, tickling as it traced over his arms, shoulders, and eventually stopping just beneath his neck. His breathing was ragged as he anticipated whatever gift Alexander had for him. 

A soft piece of velvet was strapped around his throat, a small piece of metal at the front and back. He loved the amount of pressure it was putting on him. “Is it a collar, Master?” 

“Of course, pet. And you look so fucking pretty,” he growled. 

“Can I see?” 

The blindfold slid off his face and he looked at himself in the mirror across from Alexander's desk. A metal heart wrapped around his Adam's apple, held together with two black straps of velvet. A clasp joining them together in the back. He loved the way it looked around his throat. He loved the bite of the cuffs on his wrist. He loved being so pretty for his Master. 

“It's beautiful, Master.” 

“You make it beautiful, pet. You're so pretty for me.” Alexander set a hand on Thomas's spine, straightening his posture. “Off the pillow pet, on your knees. You still need to be punished.” 

Thomas did as he was told, sinking to his knees on the hardwood floor as Alexander walked around and pulled open his desk drawer. 

“Knees apart.” Thomas spread his knees and Alexander clamped a spreader bar to his ankles, spreading them slowly, farther and farther. “Stand up.” He obeyed the order, struggling to stand up with his ankles spread. “Over the desk.” 

“Master?” 

Alexander unlocked the handcuffs and slipped them off. “Bend over the desk.” 

Thomas bent over the desk and reached as far to the floor as he could. The blindfold went back over his eyes and his other senses heightened. The feeling of leather straps dug into his wrists, and he could feel Alexander pulling his hands to his ankles over the desk as he tied the strap to the spreader bar. 

“Color?”

“Green, master.” 

“Can you breathe?” 

Thomas was laying on his chest, on papers and pens, piles of supplies that had been strewn over the desk. “Yes Master.”

He could hear Alexander walking around the desk, his shoes clicking against the hardwood. “What's my name?” 

“Master.” 

Alexander chuckled slightly. “But what do you really want to call me, baby boy?” 

“Daddy,” whimpered Thomas. 

Alexander bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to Thomas's cheek. “You're such a good baby boy,” he said, standing up and moving around the desk. “But you were bad earlier. Do you know why you're being punished?” 

“Be-because I wore my pretty clothes to work?” 

He chuckled and reached into his desk drawer once more. “No, baby. Not because you wore them to work. Because you showed them to me at work. You sent me pictures while you were in your office. You flashed me as you walked past my office. You did everything you possibly could to get me to punish you, so here we are. Are you ready for your punishment?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” Thomas whimpered, his voice straining as his erection bumped against the desk. A sharp sting marked itself across the top of Thomas's thighs. “One.”

“No need to count today, darling.” Three more sharp stings in a row. A soft hand rubbing the tender skin before leaving as soon as it had appeared. The crop- Thomas was assuming it was a crop- moved up with hits that landed on the meat of his ass. He whimpered as the crop trailed between his spread thighs, the crop landing once more on his thighs. “Stay quiet, pet.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

Two more slaps of the crop landed across the backs of his thighs and the desk drawer creaked shut. “Only a short punishment today, but you did so good baby boy,” he said, pressing a kiss to the slight bruises on Thomas's ass. He untied the leather strap from the stretcher bar and released the stretcher bar completely, easing Thomas's legs together. “So good.” 

“Thank you Daddy,” he whispered. He stood up from the desk, rubbing his wrists as Alexander removed the leather straps and blindfold. Alexander reached for the collar and Thomas pulled back. “Can I keep it on?” 

Alexander smiled. “Of course. It looks beautiful on you,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to Thomas's lips. “Why don't you head to the bedroom, pet,” he suggested, slapping Thomas's ass as he moved out of the office. “Maybe I’ll reward you for being so good during your punishment.” 

Thomas smiled. “I'm all yours.”


	2. You Hold My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is a young soldier being shipped off to war just after getting married to Martha. He comes back and a simple car backfire sends him into a PTSD attack that only Martha can talk him out of.

The summer sun was hot overhead and George Washington laid beneath the trees with his new wife Martha. They strolled through the gardens of their home, their hands interlocked. George couldn’t help but steal glances at his gorgeous wife as they walked, her cheeks a rosy red against her pale skin. 

“Martha, my love, it is almost time for me to leave. I leave before the end of the week.” Martha made no move to reply, or even acknowledge that he had ever even said anything. “Martha, it’s Wednesday, I ship out in two days.”

“Georgie, can’t we just enjoy the couple of days we have left with each other?”

And they did. They spent the next day and a half tangled in each other’s arms. 

Their bodies tangled together, a messy knot of arms and legs. George hovered above Martha, his thrusts slow and deliberate. Their mouths pressed together, their kisses gentle, loving. Neither one of them was deriving much pleasure from the sex itself, but rather they were fulfilling their mutual need to be as close to each other as possible. 

“Martha, I love you so much, you know that right?”

There were tears welling in her eyes. “George, if I asked you to stay, would you?”

George’s mouth pressed against Martha’s, the kiss desperate. “Martha, you know I can’t. God, I wish with all of my heart that I could stay, that I never have to leave this bed, but you and I both know that I have to. The Army chose me as commander of the battalion. I can’t just let them down.” His voice grew quiet as both of their orgasms began approaching. 

He could tell hers was by the way her pelvis arched towards him, the way her breathing stuttered as her heart beat faster. He watched her face, taking in every detail, memorizing the small freckles that decorated the apples of her cheeks, across her nose. He memorized the way her eyebrows furrowed as she reached her release, her head pressing back into the pillow. He focused on the feeling of her body arching against his own, the way her mouth fell open, her breasts heaving as she gasped for breath. 

His own orgasm wasn’t far behind, focusing on every part of her being sparked thrusts that he couldn’t control, that were erratic as he reached his peak. His body fell down on hers, their chests rising and falling in a synchronic dance. 

He rolled over and pulled her into his arms. His hands danced across her body, across the little roll of fat that made up her stomach- the one she hated but he couldn’t get enough of. His fingers parted her thighs, those glorious thighs, just to feel them one more time. He had to memorize her, he couldn’t forget a single detail. 

His head found its way to her chest, his ear pressing against her heartbeat, her gorgeous round breasts directly in his line of view. God, the amount of times he had heard her complaining about how they sagged, how they were asymmetrical- he didn’t care about that at all. He took a breast in his hand, his thumb brushing her nipple just to watch the dark red nub harden from his touch. 

“I’ll be gone six months, a year at most. Remember, Martha, you hold my heart.”

He wasn’t gone for two months. 

* * *

George sat in his office- his head screaming. He had been home close to a year and the pain never got better. His leg pain did though- especially the right one, the one the surgeons completely removed from his body. He felt phantom pains, but a former FBI agent had taught him how to deal with that. 

_It’s purely psychological_ , he had said. _Tell your brain it’s not there and eventually that’s what it’ll start to believe._

That pain had finally gone away, but his head- the noises never stopped. The IUD that had exploded beneath their humvee. The voices of his men as they scraped him from the ground. The sound of artillery fire, the helicopter blades whirring, various beeps, clanking from his men’s packs- the noises never stopped. 

Nearby, gunshots ran through the air, then silence. One more gunshot and George was throwing himself to the floor. They took his gun. _They took his fucking gun._

A knock sounded at the door. George removed his prosthetic leg and dragged himself to the side of the door. 

“George, I hear you moving in there. Open up!” 

God, like he was fucking stupid. Never open the door to the enemy. For all George knew, the man on the other side of the door was the one doing the shooting. 

George sat on his side of the door, his head resting against the wall. He could hear the breaths of his men around him, their voices all screaming his name. _Why did his leg suddenly hurt?_ He opened his eyes and looked down at his waist. _Why were his fatigues splashed red? Why was he suddenly weak?_

“George?”

He closed his eyes once more and did what he always would in times when the fighting calmed down- he thought of his wife. He thought of her beautiful curves, that little pudge she had around her waist, her thighs- oh god, those glorious thighs. He wanted nothing more than to part them, to feel them straddling his lap once again. 

He opened his eyes- his beautiful Martha was in front of him, a blue dress wrapped around her, her long olive legs standing in front of him and those heels- _those heels_. 

“Martha-” he whispered. “Martha, I don’t think I’m coming home.”

Those legs, those fucking olive legs, straddled his lap. Her hair smelled fucking delectable. 

“Oh god, Martha. If this is how I die, I’ll welcome it gladly.”

“Georgie, please come back to me. You hold my heart in your hands. You always have.”

The lips that pressed against his were too real to be those wet dreams he had. “Martha?”

“Come back to me, Georgie,” she whispered. 

No longer was he surrounded by his men. The screams of his men were gone. The room was silent, save the quiet sobs that fell from his mouth. George threw his arms around Martha and pulled her to his chest. Her hair brushed against his face as she pressed her forehead against his. 

“Martha,” he sobbed, his hand wrapping her hair in a fist, pulling her closer to him. “Martha.”

“Shh George. I’m here. I’m okay, you’re okay.” She pulled his hand from her hair and set it on her chest. “Can you feel my breathing? Breathe with me George. Come on- in, out.”

His sobs quieted and his breathing slowed. “Martha, I can still hear their screams.” 

“I know, Georgie. I know.” Her body left his lap and knelt in front of him. “Georgie?”

“Hmm?” he hummed. 

“How did you manage to get your legs off without taking off your pants?”

George laughed, wiping at the tears and snot on his face. “Adrenaline, maybe? I don’t really know.” He shifted his body and pulled off his jacket. “Can we go home? I can’t be here anymore.”

“Of course, Georgie. Do you want to put your leg back on or do you want me to get your crutches?”

George took a shuddering breath. “Can you grab my chair instead? It’s in the closet.”

“Of course George. I’d do anything for you.”

George smiled. He knew she would. She was a saint and he had no idea what he did to deserve her, but boy, was he glad he did it. “Martha, you hold my heart in your hands.”

Martha snorted from the closet. “And currently your leg.” 

George laughed the hardest he had in a long time. “And my leg.”


	3. Public Outing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: trans outing, descriptions of extreme violence

Thomas stood in front of Alexander, arms crossed as he listen to the short man argue. His hair was braided into cornrows, tightly pulled back against his head. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, sliding down as he looked at Alexander, whose hands were waving wildly to illustrate his point. People flooded in the halls around them, immune to the daily arguments between the two. 

“And another thing, Thomas, I-” 

A ripping sound filled Alexander's ears as a breeze danced across his back. His arms fell to his side as his body froze, his eyes wild. He stared at Thomas in shock, lip quivering as his t-shirt fell forward on his body. A dark gray binder held tight against his chest as someone pushed their way through the crowd, calling him a freak of nature. 

“Alexander?”

The shirt fell to the floor, the sleeves raking against his arms as they dropped. His chest was heaving, deep shuddering breaths shaking his body. Tears were hot against his cheeks, a steady stream sliding down his chest, the tears disappearing into the dark fabric. 

“Alexander.” 

He blinked the tears away and bolted down the hallway. Students stood watching in silence as Alexander pushed his way through the crowd. The warning bell rang and began to shuffle into their classrooms, except for Thomas. He stayed bolted in place, his mind racing. 

A scream sounded from around the corner. _Alexander._

“Leave me alone!” 

The sound of someone hitting the floor. Screaming, accompanied with the occasional slam of a locker sounded down the hallway, growing fainter with increasing distance. Thomas was bolted into place. He could hear someone talking in his ear, but the words were lost to him. “What?” 

“I asked you if you were okay.” A small freshman stood in front of him, her books under her arm. 

“I have to go find Alexander.” 

The look she gave him was full of pity. “Check the nurse’s office. The gym teacher just had to tackle him to take him down.” 

Thomas shoved his glasses back up his nose, and booked down the hallway. “Thank you!” He shouted, turning the corner. The nurse’s office was at the other end of the school. His mind was swirling. Part of him ached for what Alexander had just gone through; being outed in the main hallway, in front of half of the high school, and part of him was just confused. 

Why? How? Why was he outed? Why had that kid decided to try and ruin Alexander's life, ruin Alexander? How had the kid found out? Who even was he? His heart was thundering as he grew closer to the nurse’s office. Was Alexander okay? 

“Is Alexander here?” He asked the old lady behind the desk. 

“Mr Jefferson, do you have a pass to be here?” 

“I could lie to you and say I told my teacher I was coming here. But no. I came right here.” 

The nurse sighed, picking up the phone. “Where are you supposed to be right now?” 

“Geography 204.” 

The nurse nodded her head to a back room. “Alexander is back there. Don't rile him up or I'll kick you out.” 

Thomas nodded before taking a shuddering breath. Would Alexander even want to see him? He shoved the door open to the back room and slipped inside. Alexander was laying on one of those terribly uncomfortable beds, his wrists clipped in braces on either side of his body. “Oh, Alexander,” he breathed. 

Alexander’s head drooped to the side, his eyes empty as he blinked impossibly slow, giving Thomas a sad smirk. His lip was swollen, a deep cut bleeding slightly. “Did you know this school has so many quote-unquote-problem kids that they actually have an exam bed with braces? They almost pinned my legs down, too.” His elbows were bent at odd angles, his wrists pulled up even with his shoulders. 

“Alexander-” 

“I hate this so much,” he sobbed, his face scrunching up. “I can't be here anymore. I've been here for three years. And I was finally getting used to the place, you know? I eat lunch with Laf and Herc and John, and I argue with you and James, and everyone always just... accepted me, and now they all know. And now I'm gonna have to leave.” 

“Why do you have to leave just because they know?” Thomas pulled the stool from the corner over to the bed. 

“They'll kill me,” he whispered. “They'll gang up on me. And they'll kill me. It happens every time.” He has raised his head slightly to look at Thomas, and he slammed his head back onto the bed. “I don't wanna die,” he whimpered. “For the first time in as long as I can remember, I actually enjoy waking up. I enjoy coming to school and seeing your stupid face, and hearing your dumb opinions, and owning this place with the guys. And now it's all gone. Everyone is gonna hate me more than they already do.” 

“I don't hate you,” Thomas whispers. “As dumb as your opinions are, and as loud and arrogant as you can be, I don't hate you.” He chuckles slightly. “Kinda the exact opposite actually.” 

Alexander stayed silent, his eyes drifting closed. “I don't want to go,” he finally whispered. 

“So don't,” Thomas whispered back. 

The nurse pushed the door open. “Alex,” she said, moving towards him with keys in her hands. “When was the last time you took your Xanax?” 

His face went blank, eyes searching the air for the answer. He sat up on the bed and rubbed his newly freed wrists. His eyes darted from Thomas to the nurse, his chest heaving with each breath, his heart beating visible against his olive skin. 

“Since it's taking you so long to figure it out, I'm going to assume it's been a while, yeah?” She dumped some pills in her hand as Alex nodded his head ashamedly. “I called George, and he brought your prescription, and I called your doctor. Considering you missed your morning dose, and now it's time for your lunch dose, he said he wants you to take both of them now. That's eight pills, Alex.” She held the palmful of tiny white pills out to him. 

“Can I have a cup of water?” He asked, taking them in his own hand. 

Thomas left the small room and returned with a cup of water, holding it out to him. 

“Thanks.” Alexander took the pills and popped them all in his mouth at once, chasing them with half the cup of water. “Did- did George bring me another shirt?” His eyes stayed cast away from everyone, the small blue garbage pail in the corner becoming increasingly interesting. 

“No, he didn't. If you want, I can call him to bring you one, or you can borrow one of the nurse’s stash shirts.” 

Alexander’s eyes shone with tears. “I don't want one of the loner shirts, and I don't want to bother George anymore. Can’t I just stay here for the rest of the day?” 

“You have to get to class. Both of you,” she specified, looking at Thomas, who just nodded. 

He shrugged off his letterman and forced Alexander's arms into it, buttoning all but the top two buttons up. The top of his binder was clearly visible, the jacket hanging off him, but at least he was covered. Alexander forced his hands through the sweater paws, fighting to keep the sleeves around his wrists before giving in and snuggling deeper into the red and white fabric. 

“Is that okay for you Alexander?” The nurse asked as Alexander curled back up on the bed. 

“Yeah, it's fine.” He sniffled. “Can we stay here for the rest of the period? We’ll both leave when the bell rings.” 

She looked at Alexander. He looked pitiful, his eyes dimmed red, light purple bags beneath them, a snotty nose that he refuses to blow, and instead, kept sniffling. “Yeah, whatever. But I want you both out for your next class.” Both boys nodded and she closed the door. 

They sat in silence, Alexander curled up on the bed, Thomas finding the chair beside him once more. “Alexander, I didn't know.” 

“That was the whole point,” he whined. “No one was supposed to find out. I worked so hard to get where I am and it was just shattered in a matter of seconds.” 

Thomas’s hand dug for Alexander’s, retrieving it from its sweater paw. “What did you mean by they always kill you?” 

Alexander sunk into himself even more at the question.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It was just a weird way to word things and I overstepped, I definitely overstepped and you hate me, so why would you want me to know one of your thoughts and the reasoning behind your thoughts and now I'm rambling and I'm going to shut up.” He sighed and looked at the ceiling before looking down at Alexander and catching the small smile on his face. “What?” 

“I don't hate you. I just think you're a giant asshole,” he teased, sitting up on the bed, hunching over. “I was at my last school for about three months before I came out to someone I trusted, or, someone I thought I could trust. It turned out he was a super transphobe, and so he got a bunch of his real friends and they lynched me. George was my foster father then, and he came home to find me strung up in the garage. They had recorded it with a hidden camera and ended up uploading it to YouTube or something. I was dead for sixteen minutes before paramedics got there according to the video. And they barely managed to revive me on scene.” 

“A video....” 

“Yeah, I watched it a few times, wondering why George had happened to come home early and happened to want to park his car in the garage for once. It was all a bunch of coincidences that ended up with me sitting here, outed again, waiting for the retaliation again.” He looked up slightly, and angled his head to the side, and for the first time in three years, Thomas noticed the discoloration on his neck- the rope burn. 

“No one will ever hurt you again Alexander, I promise.” 

“You can't promise that.”

“I know, but who would fight with you when you have the football team’s quarterback on your arm? Hmm?” 

Alexander smiled, blushing at Thomas's words. “Kiss me.” 

Thomas didn't fight him. He leaned in, their lips brushing together. It was gentle; Thomas’s hand reached around Alexander to cup the back of his head, holding him in place. Alexander smiled into the kiss. He was surrounded by Thomas’s scent- the smell of his cologne dancing heavy in the air around them from the letterman, the taste of TicTac was strong in his mouth- wintergreen if Alex knew his tastes- the smell of his laundry detergent was heavy on the white t-shirt strapped against his muscles, and his natural scent was dizzying. It was a high Alexander never wanted to leave. 

Thomas leaned back slowly, his hand drifting from the back of Alexander's neck to caress his cheek. His eyes were a beautiful golden brown, shining at Alexander with adoration. 

“I think I could stay here if it meant I get kissed like that on a regular basis,” Alexander joked, a small laugh huffing from his chest. 

“Well, it just so happens that I'm looking for someone to wear my number at the homecoming game next week. I'll pick you up tomorrow night and we’ll go out for pizza and wings, and it'll be like a little, uh, interview to see if you're a viable candidate.” 

“Oh? And how many, uh, interviews do you have?”

A sly smirk graced Thomas’s face. “Just yours.” 

Alexander blushed. “What if I don't want anyone else wearing your jersey but me?” 

Thomas stroked his chin. “Do I still get to take you to get pizza and wings tomorrow night?” 

“Yeah, sure.”

“Then you've already got the position as boyfriend, jersey wearer, and chief arm candy,” Thomas said, pressing a gentle kiss to Alexander’s temple. 

“Good,” Alexander whispered. “Also, you'll have to fight me to get this jacket back. It's comfy, it smells like you, and it's mine now.” 

“It's all yours, Alex. It's all yours.” He wasn't just talking about the jacket, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr 
> 
> @im-writing-out-of-time


	4. Daddy Kink w/ Jamilton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I mean, the "title" pretty much gives it away.  
> Tumblr request

Thomas's hands drifted down Alexander's stomach, fingers tracing the lace pattern that adorned him. “You got this for me?” 

Alexander looked up at Thomas, chocolate eyes shining bright through his dark lashes. “Yes, Daddy,” he breathed. “I wanted to be good for you. I saw this in your recent searches online.”

Thomas bucked his thick cock against Alexander, the zipper of his jeans raking against the pale skin between his thighs. “You're a very good boy, baby doll. You're so good for Daddy.” His hands released their grip on Alexander's hips and danced down his thighs, pulling him to the edge of the bed before sinking to his knees on the floor. 

Alexander was already hard, his erection testing the limits of the thin lace strapping his cock against his stomach. Thomas gripped the thin elastic band over Alexander’s hips and hiked it up farther. The string from the thong pulled tight against Alexander's ass, his hips bucking up into empty air. 

“Daddy, please. Don't tease,” he whimpered. 

Thomas’s large hand slapped hard against the skin of Alexander's ass, a red hand print immediately welting up. “Daddy's the boss, baby. Don't boss me around.” His face dove to the apex of Alexander's hips, the bones jutting out from his lithe body. “You're so pretty for Daddy, baby boy.” He nosed Alexander’s erection, pre cum dripping onto his stomach, a small puddle forming. 

“Thank you Daddy,” he breathed. “I want to be a good boy for you, a pretty boy.” 

Thomas nosed down the length of Alexander's cock and pushed his thumb against the metal plug in his ass, rotating it slightly as he pushed. Alexander keened, his legs falling to Thomas's shoulders. His stockinged legs brushed against Thomas, his heels slowly sliding from his feet. “What size plug do you have in today, pet?” 

“The medium one, Daddy. I wanted you to be able to stretch me out with your thick hard cock.” 

Thomas smirked as his baby doll babbled on. He stood up, easing Alexander's legs back to the mattress, before disappearing from the room entirely. “Stay there,” he called as he moved gracefully through the doorway. 

Alexander pulled his heels back on his feet and craned his neck to watch the doorway for Thomas, for his Daddy. He appeared moments later with a chair that he placed in the middle of the room. “Daddy?” 

“You're going to put on a show, baby boy. And-” He grabbed a camcorder and set it up on the dresser, coincidentally the perfect height for the purpose it would be serving today. “We’re going to record you. Would you like that baby?” 

Alexander smirked as he looked at the camcorder. “Didn't camcorders go extinct decades ago?” 

Thomas smirked back at him, grabbing Alexander's ankles, wrapping them around his waist. Alexander was suddenly very aware of the blinking orange light staring at them. Thomas bucked his hips against Alexander as he hoisted the smaller man against his body. “Would you rather I record it on my phone, where someone could easily hack it and put it all over the internet?”

Alexander’s chin quivered behind Thomas's head, but Thomas didn't miss the throbbing of Alexander's cock between them. 

“You’d love for everyone to see how good you can be for me, wouldn’t you? How well you can dance, and grind.” 

“Yes, Daddy,” he whimpered. 

Thomas set Alexander on the floor and sat on the chair. “Get to dancing, whore.” 

“Daddy, there’s no music.” 

Thomas removed a small remote from his pocket and turned on a his iPod from his chair in the middle of the room. He watched as Alexander’s eyes widened as the music started playing. “Come on slut. Dance for me.” 

Alexander straddled Thomas’s lap, his hips brushing against the bulge in Thomas’s jeans as his hips jerked forward. Standing up, He waltzed behind the chair, pressing kisses to the sides of Thomas’s neck, sucking a dark mark into his skin before dropping to the floor in front of Thomas, knees spread wide. He rolled his body against the floor a few times before Thomas growled at him. 

“No teasing baby boy.”

Alexander pouted but crawled on his hands and knees, stopping when his face was eye-level with Thomas’s hard cock. He nosed against him before standing up and throwing his legs over each side of the chair. He eased one leg over Thomas’s shoulder and braces the other on the rungs of the chair, thrusting his hips towards Thomas’s face, rolling his body in time to the music. 

Thomas closed his eyes as a wave of pleasure rolled through him. The moan that ripped through his mouth was animalistic and he lunged forward, latching his mouth to the gusset of the panties in front of him. “Fuck this,” he growled. 

He lifted Alexander with ease and threw him on the bed, the music still blaring in the background. “Thomas?” 

Thomas had walked away and turned the camera towards the bed. “You didn’t get to finish your dance so now I’ll have to record whatever comes next.” 

Alexander shuddered, knowing that Thomas was going to be recording them fucking. As Thomas walked to the bed, he reached to his waist to peel off the panties, his hands getting pinned to the bed before he could move them move than an inch. 

“No, no, baby boy. I’m going to move these panties and then I want you to fuck my mouth.” 

“What?” Alexander’s eyes grew wide. 

“You heard me,” Thomas said as his teeth latched on to the waistband, dragging it down to settle right beneath Alex’s balls. “Fuck my mouth. Let me see those hips work. Let me _feel_ them.” 

Alexander moaned as Thomas’s mouth surrounded him, his nose buried in the thick curls around his cock. His hips tried jerking forward, going nowhere. Thomas eased back and smirked for a second before Alexander fucked his cock back into his mouth. 

His thrusts were relentless, his moans loud as he fucked his husband’s mouth. “God, Tommy, your mouth feels so good around my cock.” He fisted Thomas’s hair in his hands, holding Thomas in place as he thrusted into his throat. “Thomas, I’m gonna-”

He held Thomas in place as he came down his throat, his hips stuttering as he held Thomas in place. Thomas’s nose was pressed against his pubic bone and Thomas moaned around Alexander, nosing around the dark curls before Alexander finally pulled him off. 

“Fuck Thomas, you were amazing.”

Thomas sat up and smirked. “We’re not done yet baby boy,” he said, pulling Alexander’s lace panties back in place. “Now I’m going to fuck your pretty little ass.” He turned Alexander over, pressing his face into the blankets and pushed the panties to the side. He grabbed the silver plug and yanked it from Alexander’s ass, reveling in the whimpers that escaped him. 

“Thomas!” He gasped, his asshole fluttering around nothing. 

“Hush, baby boy. Daddy’s going to take care you. I always do.” 

“Yes, Daddy,” Alexander whispered, leaning his face back down in the blankets. Thomas dipped his tongue down and lapped at the tight ring. “Daddy, I’m ready for you. Please don’t tease!” 

Thomas smirked and unzipped his pants, pushing them down past his hips and grabbing his cock in his hand. “You’re ready for me, baby boy?” He asked, watching Alexander’s head bobbin agreement. He lined himself up with Alexander’s ass and thrusted in, burying himself in one thrust. 

Alexander lay on the bed, gasping as Thomas began fucking him at a brutal pace. “Yes, Daddy,” he pleaded. “Harder.” 

Thomas slowed his pace down instead, dragging the head of his cock against Alexander’s prostate, loving the whimpers and gasps being drawn from his mouth. He grabbed a handful of Alexander’s hair and pulled him back. Alexander looked at him, eyelids heavy. 

“You gonna cum baby boy?”

Alexander nodded jerkily. 

“You gonna ask?” 

“Please Daddy, can I cum?” 

Thomas began to roll his hips with each thrust. “Do you deserve it?” 

“Please Daddy!” 

Thomas picked up his thrusts again, the pace brutal, his zipper dragging against the inside of Alexander’s thighs. “Cum, baby boy.” 

Alexander’s body seized up as he came, his body clenching around Thomas, sparking his own orgasm. His fucking slowed as he came, watching Alexander shake as he grew more and more over-sensitive. 

Alexander dropped to the bed, his pelvis laying in a puddle of cum as his arms gave out. Thomas pulled out and fell to the bed beside him, pressing small kisses to the smaller man’s temple. “Did I do good?” Alexander asked sleepily 

“You were wonderful, Alex. I couldn’t handle you shaking your hips like that without taking you right then.” 

Alexander rolled over to face Thomas. “You’re just weak for me,” he teased. 

Thomas smirked at him as he stood up and strode across the room to the camera. “Damn right I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr:
> 
> @im-writing-out-of-time  
> @im-still-writing-out-of-time

**Author's Note:**

> Stalk me on tumblr
> 
> @im-writing-out-of-time


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